Hogwartian Host Club (H2C)
by DRoWN.uNTo.Me
Summary: James Potter decides to set up a host club at Hogwarts in a desperate attempt to get Lily Evans to fall for him. Sirius enthusiastically joins, while Remus grudgingly and Peter timidly agree. What shenanigans could the Marauders possibly get into, seducing everyone (and I mean everyone) at Hogwarts? "Don't worry guys, nothing can go wrong." (*Rated M to be safe; rather fluffy)
1. I Want to Set Up a Host Club

_Chapter 1- I Want to Set Up a Host Club_

"I have the perfect plan!" James yelled, forcefully pushing the dorm door open with a _bang_.

"What?" Peter asked groggily, flipping over onto his back. "What time is it?"

James rushed over to jump up onto Peter's bed. "Time to listen to my amazing plan!"

"No, it's not" Peter mumbled, pulling his sheets closer to his body.

"Come _on_," James said excitedly, standing on the bed and tugging his friend's blankets away. Peter didn't have the energy to fight off an enthusiastic James Potter.

"Heeeeeelp," he groaned. He heard Sirius snore. "Remus?"

Moony padded out of the bathroom, a towel around his head and drops of water coursing their way down his torso, creating shining rivulets. "Sorry, Wormtail," he said, removing the towel and shaking out his hair, "He already got to me about twenty minutes ago. I tried to save you time by telling him to go and find a place to carry out this plan, but apparently he found one, so he's back. I can't help you." Remus now watched a bright-eyed James continue to play tug-of-war with Peter and Peter's blanket. "I suggest you give up and get up. He's _like that_ right now."

Peter looked at Remus and paused in surprise, giving James the opportunity to successfully steal away the boy's sheets. "_Like that_?" he asked incredulously, "So early in the morning?" Peter couldn't remember the last time James had been _like that_, much less such a phenomenon occurring in these early morning hours.

"Yeah," Remus said, now eyeing a joyous James. He was by Peter's feet, sprawled out on the bed, grinning and hugging the lump of quilt he won tightly to his chest. Suddenly, he shot straight up, startling both Peter and Remus. James' gaze zeroed in on Sirius, who had kicked his sheets and blankets to the floor in the middle of the night and was still snoring despite his friends' commotion. Remus and Peter watched as a somber-faced James approached Sirius' bed. He stood staring at the young Black, arms folded across his chest, biting his lip in consideration. From where he was standing by the bathroom, Remus could hear James mumbling.

"Aha!" James finally said with a snap of his fingers, "Moony, a cup of water, if you would so oblige."

Peter looked at Remus, both of them understanding immediately what Prongs had in mind.

"As you wish," Remus said with well-hidden amusement. He journeyed into the bathroom briefly, taking his time to find the largest gargling cup in there. He came out instead with the bowl they used when they wanted to take a bath. Significantly larger than a cup, it was a hand's length deep with a diameter the size of Remus' hand (which, out of the four of them, had the longest fingers), from the base of his palm to the tip of his middle finger. The bowl was filled to its brim.

"Good sir," James said, taking it graciously from Remus' grasp. He smiled a bit wider when some water splashed out onto his thumb. Remus had charmed the water ice-cold, a devious touch he hadn't even thought of. James smiled at Remus and his brilliance, but he only shrugged and moved toward his wardrobe to pull on some clothes. James returned his attention to Sirius, Sirius who was still snoring, Sirius who was stuck in Dreamland, Sirius who was a soft, perfect target right as this moment.

"Padfoot," James whispered, leaning down to the boy's ear.

Sirius swatted at his ear and mumbled incoherently.

"Padfoot," he said a little louder.

No response.

"I think you should get up." This James said at a normal volume.

Still, Sirius did nothing but sleep.

"Oh, well, I did warn you," James said lightly, innocently. He scrambled onto the bed (not even this movement would wake Sirius) and holding the bowl in different positions and at different heights, tried to gauge the perfect angle for ruining Sirius' morning.

Peter and Remus watched as James spilt a tester amount of water onto their friend. It hit Sirius squarely on the collarbone. He readjusted his position, Peter sitting in his bed trying to hold back a fit of laughter and Remus hiding a smile as he turned to fold his clothes.

Remus wasn't watching when it happened, but he knew the moment it did. Sirius screamed out, his words sputtering in the midst of James' icy waterfall as Remus moved on to fold his pants. _He really needs to learn how to sleep more lightly_, he thought to himself, barely masking a grin. Today was bound to be a hellish but exciting day, if the sun was just rising and the Marauders were already pulling pranks on each other.

"ARGHADKLFG!" was all Peter understood of Sirius' yelling. He couldn't help but burst into laughter as the boy shot into a seated position, wildly clawing at the source of his liquid and freezing wake-up call.

"Bloody fucking hell!"

"Good morning, sunshine."

For a person who just woke up, Sirius' reflexes were surprisingly quick as he grabbed on to James' leg before he could jump off the bed and escape. The boy fell hard, face-down into the bed as his feet were pulled out from under him, landing with a muffled _thunk_.

"Oh no you don't," Sirius growled, vengeance in his eyes, "You're not going anywhere." And with that, he started tickling James.

It was a pitiful sight, really. James was howling, a pain-filled laughter matching the mixed look of joy and horror on his face. Sirius was attacking him with what was initially a very angry and satisfied look, which eventually turned into boredom. Remus and Peter couldn't help but grin at the ridiculous situation. James, while rather strong for his thin frame and rather intelligent for the crazy plans he thought up, had always had a weakness: he was severely ticklish. One could tickle James for hours on end and the boy would continue to laugh; the problem was that tickling James on end became tiresome and underwhelming. They'd uncovered his kryptonite back in second year, when the Gryffindor boys decided to gather and play Truth or Dare.

It had been nearing Christmas then, the sharp scent of snow drifting through the halls of Hogwarts. Two popular sixth year boys by the names of Bronwyn and Jefferies had been planning something of a Gryffindorian Boys' Night In, a ritual that had actually started with Bronwyn's eldest brother, Donahue.

"That's besides the point," James said, swatting at the narrator's words hovering over him.

No, this is an important part of the story! I swear!

"No, it's not, actually," Remus said, "Just let him get on with it."

But-

"Narrator, shut up. Guys, before this god-like, lunatic narrator goes off telling another random story about our collective past, I shall tell you my brilliant, brilliant plan to woo Lily Evans!" James said valiantly, standing proudly with one leg propped up on a chair.

"Valiantly," Remus muttered under his breath with a chuckle.

"Get on with it," Sirius said, bored.

"I want to set up a host club."


	2. No Sex of Any Kind Will Be Involved

_Chapter 2- No Sex of Any Kind Will Be Involved_

"You want to- what?"

"Set up a host club here at Hogwarts."

"_Why?_"

"What the hell is a host club?"

Remus shot a pointed look at James, refusing to explain.

"Well," James started, looking lost, "How do I explain this without making it sound like a strip club?" This he directed at Remus, who simply shook his head and returned to reading.

"You want to start up a _strip club_?" Peter asked, incredulous.

"I'm game," Sirius said with a mischievous smile, "But the real question is, which girls should we recruit? Which ones would be willing to be strippers?"

"No, no, host clubs are Japanese clubs that require _male _entertainers," James said hastily. "They-"

"You want _us_ to strip?!" Peter exclaimed.

"I'm still game," Sirius said.

"No, guys, no! None of us will be removing our clothes for money- unless, of course, Padfoot really wants to," James said, starting to explain, "When I say 'male entertainers,' that's really all I mean- it's not code for strippers. Women go to them to get pampered, treated like queens, live out their fantasies. The males- the 'hosts,' as they're called- become their Prince Charming."

"You say 'live out their fantasies'. What if they fantasize about sex? Do we offer that too? I'm not becoming a prostitute for your enjoyment, Prongs," Peter said.

Sirius grinned. "You sure, Wormtail? Doesn't sound like a bad deal. I'm game."

"You're game for _anything_," Remus muttered.

"I know, dear Moony, I know. It's one of the qualities I know you love about me." Sirius winked at him and he mimed gagging in response.

James made a face. "Ew, Padfoot. Anyway, no, Peter, no sex of any kind will be involved. If you're a host, you simply serve whomever your customer is by-"

"By whispering sweet little nothings into her ear," Sirius said into Remus' ear, having jumped onto the boy's bed.

"Ugh," Remus said, rubbing his ear. If it had been a few years ago, he would've jumped out of shock at having Sirius whisper lovingly but mockingly into his ear, but by now he was used to Padfoot's homosexual tendencies.

"Pretty much," James said to Peter, "You just...compliment them, use pick-up lines on them, and just...entertain them in any non-sexual way."

"Oh, James, you silly thing." Sirius turned his gaze on him as he laid down next to Remus. "_Anything_ can be sexual."

The three other boys looked at each other and rolled their eyes- typical Sirius. With a satisfied smirk on his face, he snuggled closer to Remus. Recently, they'd all noticed, Padfoot had been trying much harder to unnerve them with bolder advances.

"Good boy," Remus said, absentmindedly patting Padfoot's head as he returned to the book he was reading.

"Anyway," James continued excitedly, "We'll call it the Hogwartian Host Club, H2C for short, like H2O, because everyone will need us like they need water."

"Sorry, but that sounds rather...stupid," Remus said carefully.

"It does?" James deflated.

"No, no, it's fine," Peter said, shooting a warning glance at Remus. He only shrugged and nestled deeper into his book of the day. Peter then looked to Sirius for some confirmation. "I think it's...great," Peter said a bit awkwardly, relaxing as Sirius looked back at him and nodded his head. _Yes, good,_ he said with the nod, _lie to him._ Padfoot then shook his head to himself. Where on earth had James come up with such a lame name?

"Wait, is it just going to be the four of us? You weren't planning on finding anybody else?" Sirius asked. He was sitting at Peter's desk, his gaze focused as he balanced his chair back on one leg.

"Would we need anyone else?" James looked surprised, as though he hadn't even considered the idea of non-Marauders joining in on this plan.

"You want us to entertain hordes of girls and gays on our own? Just the four of us? I thought this was supposed to be a personalized experience for our customers," Sirius said, absentmindedly pushing back some hair.

"I think we need to do more research," Peter said thoughtfully.

James' eyebrows furrowed. "How could we do that?"

"I don't know. Maybe we could ask that Japanese guy in our Potions class," Sirius responded, his hair starting to really annoy him. Tendrils of inky black hair refused to stay put and out of his face.

"You really need a haircut," Remus said, glancing up from his book.

"Isn't that a little racist?" Peter asked.

"Telling Sirius to cut his hair?" James was confused.

"No," Remus said, his eyes not leaving his novel, "Sirius said that we should ask Akihiro from our Potions class about host clubs. Peter was asking if that was racist."

"Why would that be racist?" There was hurt in Sirius' voice at the accusation.

"Well, Akihiro was born and grew up in Scotland, after all," Peter said.

"He _did_?" Sirius looked astonished.

"Maybe you would know that if you actually came to Potions class and talked to him sometime," Remus said lightly. Sirius shot him a quick glare.

James waved it off with a flourish of his hand. "Never mind that," he said, "How are we going to find out more about host-clubbing?"

"'Host-clubbing'?" Peter asked, somewhat mockingly.

"Well, what else should I call it? Hosting a club?" James asked sarcastically.

"That sounds really stupid," Remus commented, flipping a page.

"Which is why I said 'host-clubbing' in the first place," James said, lifting his hands in exasperation.

"How about from now on, we just say 'running a host club'? How about that?" Peter suggested.

"That's rather a mouthful," Sirius evaluated, glaring at the hair in his eyes and reaching for a pair of scissors.

"And not nearly as imaginative as I'm sure Prongs would like it to be," Remus added.

James paused. "Wait, why are we arguing about what to call what we're doing when we don't even really know...what we're doing?"

"Are you really going to cut your hair right here, right now?" Peter asked, watching Sirius in disbelief. In his peripheral vision, Peter saw Remus roll his eyes.

"I said you needed a haircut, not that you should do it yourself, and not right here," Remus said, disapprovingly but distractedly, "Don't be unnecessarily dramatic."

Sirius had grabbed hold of a handful of his fairly long hair and was poised to make a cut. He ignored his friends, the tip of his tongue poking out in concentration. His hand gave a slight squeeze to the scissors-

"GUYS," James said loudly, clearly unhappy.

"Shit!" Sirius let out in a loud whisper. Remus looked up to see a bunch of black hair in his friend's hand, the strands cleanly severed from their source.

"James," Sirius glowered.

He ignored the glaring, perhaps out of true absorption in his host club plan. "Guys," James whined, "Why aren't you helping me? How are we supposed to find out more about host clubs and how to set them up and how to run them?" Sirius wanted to smack the pouting and deflated expression off of James, not hearing his question.

Remus rested his book in his lap. He had the patient look of a teacher on his face. "Well, how did you find out about host clubs in the first place? Perhaps through that avenue, we can learn even more."

James, Sirius, and Peter looked at him all at once, their gazes on his calm figure.

"I feel stupid," James said in a small voice.

"As you should," Remus responded complacently.

"I can't believe you ruined my hair," Sirius growled at the narrator.

I personally think it's an improvement.

"No, Snuffles!" Remus warned, grabbing the dog by the scruff of his neck as he made to lunge at the words in the air.

"Can we get rid of this narrator yet? It seemed like a good idea at first but now I'm just getting annoyed," James said.

"No. It was your idea, so you're going to have to deal with it until the charm wears off," Remus said sternly, still gripping on to the black, furry ball of rage, which had now bared its teeth at the words continually appearing in the air.

"It's not that bad," Peter said thoughtfully. "Like you said, by having a narrator we can see what we look and sound like from a third person perspective, which could possibly result in an avoidance of bad pranks and an abundance of good. Plus," he added, staring at the words blossoming in the air, "the accompanying voice is nice to listen to at night. Very soothing."

Why, thank you, Peter!

"No problem," he said with a slight smile.

"Stop sucking up to the narrator," Sirius said darkly, now human again, "It's not like that'll get you anywhere with it. Didn't James make it objective?"

"Yeah, I did!" James exclaimed, surprised at his forgetfulness.

Yes, he did. However, at the last minute he put in a dash of each of your personalities, so now I'm not completely objective in my narration and, thus, judgement.

"Prongs! What on earth did you do that for?" Peter scolded.

James put his hands up in defense. "I just thought it would be too boring just to make a regular narrator. Hey, you said you liked it, didn't you?"

"Now some of its usefulness is diminished. Nice going, Prongs."

"But-"

"No one wants to hear it. Save it."


End file.
